


The Savior Part 2

by OnlyOneWoman



Series: The Savior [2]
Category: Black Sails
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Caretaking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Frustration, Love, M/M, Male Prostitution, Molly Boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-17
Updated: 2016-05-17
Packaged: 2018-06-09 02:30:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6885484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnlyOneWoman/pseuds/OnlyOneWoman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The next five chapters (6-10) of my own story about Billy Bones journey to the Walrus and how his life changed. If you find the timeline or disposition confusing, let me know.</p><p>Part 1: http://archiveofourown.org/works/6882508<br/>Part 3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/6906526<br/>Part 4: http://archiveofourown.org/works/6921040</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Savior Part 2

This is my first fandom ever, and it's also the first time I've ever written something fictional in English outside school, since it's not my native language, so please have patience with the language! This piece of work takes place in this timeline: Billy as a 14 year old, being captured by the Navy - Billy as a 17 year old, found by Captain Flint and his crew - Billy as a 21 year old, being a part of the Walrus crew since four years. The note "Present day B21" means Billy as a 21 year old, "Four years earlier B17" means Billy just before, or just in time for, meeting Captain Flint for the first time. "Present day" is, to be clear, not referring to our modern time. This is chapter 6-10 in this story.

 

 **CHAPTER 6 (Present day, B21)**  
The hammock slowly rocked his tired body to rest. Problem was, t’wasn’t his body that needed to slow down. Billy’s head swirmed with thoughts, feelings of irritation and loneliness, all the way to utterly desperation. Patrick wasn’t enough. Hell, even if he had the opportunity to fuck him on daily basis, it would never be enough. The ache in his chest started again as he tried to clear his mind, make it blank and calm enough to get some sleep. Silver’s words rang in his mind. Five fucking years… For the first time since the Captain embraced him after the capture, while being delirious with fever, he gave in for the messed up feelings and cried quite in the darkness, relieved that no one was there to witness his weakness.

”Billy?”

The voice made him draw breath heavily, turning out of the hammock quick as a cat. Flint was standing beside him, with a tired look on his face.

”Didn’t mean to scare you.”

”What is it?”

Too late, Billy realized, he’d not made his voice steady enough. The words sounded weak, almost frightened. He swallowed hard, trying to keep the wet cheeks hidden.

”Do you need me for anything, Captain?”

”Billy…”

That voice. He’d only heard it once before. The day Flint, not yet his Captain, released him and another form of torture began. A much more pleasant one, no doubts about that, yet still torture. T’was not the Captains usual hard, rough voice, lacking of all emotions except anger. This voice was soft, gentle in a way he’d never thought he’d experience again. He could’t help the tears forcing themselves from his eyes.

Then the Captain touched his cheek, sweeping the tears away with careful hands. Those hands… capable of so many evil things, yet still able to make him feel like something more than just a crew member, a comrade or a fuck. Too worn out by the memories, the grief and the emotions the Captains touch aroused, Billy finally gave in for it all. Didn’t know he had that amount of tears left in him, that capability of letting himself get out of control in this way. The older crew members, the ones being in the crew before he got rescued, used to call him ”the kid”, since that’s what he was the day they found him. Now he was a grown man, and seen as a such for years. No one saw him even remotely close to anything connected with weakness these days, and he was determined to keep it that way. ”The kid” should never give anyone here causes to call him that name for any other reason than his age the day he got rescued. And now he showed this weakness for the one person he’d sworn to remain strong before, no matter what…

They didn’t speak. Billy ’cause he couldn’t, the Captain for some reason Billy didn’t know about. He just sat there, embracing his bosun, gently caressing his back. The day Billy was liberated, it had been a skinny, trashed back, all bloody and sore with more bones than meat. Now only some white, almost invisible scars bared witness of his former life. He was one of the strongest men among the crew, with the name Bones only remaining as a mark of when his new life had begun. Still, the touch of the Captain’s hands on his naked skin it felt both scaring and exciting. As the sorrow slowly drifted away again, forced aside by the embrace, the memories started to come to rest in his head, as if they’d say ”enough for now, kid, no more diving in this shit, these no good thoughts”. The past was the past and now was now. Now was him being closer to his Captain than ever before.

Seemed like an eternity, the time it took for the tears and dry sobbing to stop. They sat on the hard floor, the hammocks swinging above them. As the Captain moved his arm, Billy grabbed it. He didn’t think about it, all he knew was that he couldn’t bear the thought of Flints touch to stop. Not now, not when he finally felt it again after so long time. He pressed Flints hand to his chest, stroking the strong arm and rested his head on the other mans shoulder. Then he suddenly realized what he was doing and let go of his grip, scrunching in embarrassment of his actions.

”Captain, please, I’m sorry, I didn’t…”

”Billy, don’t apologise.”

The Captain lay his arm around the bosun shoulders and pulled him to his chest. Billy’s heart was pounding faster, his mouth ran dry and for a moment he stopped breathing, as Flint’s hand wandered off, like fireflies on his body. The Captain took his time, tenderly touching the battle marked, yet soft skin over the ripped muscles. T’was a kind of touch Billy didn’t recognize, something entirely else than hands carefully tending to wounds or sickness, or the hands of a loving mother, a caring brother or a dear friend. He knew those kinds of hands, and the Captains touch didn’t fit in amongst them. Strangely they didn’t remind him of Patrick or any other whore who’d brought him pleasure occasionally through the years either. He shivered, feeling his muscles tighten once again.

”Relax, Billy… I’m not going to hurt you or push you away. Know no shame…”

Exhausted from the confused emotions, Billy leaned back against his Captain with a heavy sigh, finally giving the tense muscles some rest. T’was as if his whole body was crying, even though the tears had stopped. Please, please, don’t let go of me, he wanted to say, wanted to scream it out loud and clear so there’d be no doubts about it. I need you to hold me just like this, my Captain, for as long as possible, just so I can have a sip of what I need, what I’ve been longing for all these years trying to hide my desires…

The sound of voices approaching brought Billy back to the reality. His cock, once the tears had given in for the pleasure, grinding against the trousers fabric, ached from the excitement of Flints groin brushing against his back. The reality of their vulnerable situation made them both freeze, and when Billy heard the foot steps, he rose and quickly returned to his hammock, scared of what they’d think of him or the Captain if they’d been seen like this. He felt a light touch on his hair and then, as if nothing had happen, the Captain left him without a word.

 

 **CHAPTER 7 (Four years earlier, B17)**  
”Soaking wet again.”

Singleton shook the youngest recruits hammock. Billy liked most of the crew well enough, at least he didn’t dislike anyone. Except Singleton. The tall, bald man with his malicious smile, one that reminded Billy all to well about his former life, was the only one talking loudly about his fellow crew mens misfortunes spitefully. Billy’s hammock hung next to Morley´s, one of the older crew members, and the man had heard the boy cry many nights. As he heard Singleton making fun of Billy’s grief, he went straight ahead to the bald man.

”Stop it, will ya? It’s not like he’s the only one here having bad fucking memories. Being young yourself once, haven’t ya?”  
”He shouldn’t be here. He’s too young, and too fucking scrawny to do any good. This is a ship and no damn nursery!”

T’was the third week onboard. The first week, Billy could only remember as a mist of pain and surprisingly caring hands. Three years on the Royal Navy’s awful diet and harsh regim had almost made him forget how a full, fresh meal tasted, not to mention how a soft bed felt like. The pirates had made him a temporary place in the sick quarters, where the ships surgeon took care of his wounds. Every day different crew members helped him with his meals and sometimes, til his utterly surprise, the Captain himself tend to his needs.

He still cried a lot, thou noone mentioned it or even seemed to take notice. As Morley said: they all had their share of ghosts from the past, hunting them when the world went too silent. When the day finally came for Billy being able to sit up, his mates brought him up on deck on sunny days when they were’nt hunting. They’d given him some new clothes, all to big for him, and they teased him about it.  
”Billy Bones, the Walrus’ own living skeleton! Let’s raise him as our new black and give old Roger here some time off!”

He didn’t get the least offended, t’was all in good sport. As he slowly gained in strenght, Joji started to teach him how to mend ropes, old Morley taught him about the waters, the small islands they were passing on their way back to Nassau and when ever he could spare a moment, Mr. Gates made him company, telling him all about the ship, the crew and things that made a pirate ship to a whole different thing, than a ship runned by the Navy. Billy didn’t talk much about his former life. It still hurt very much and the crew didn’t ask. Only when Mr. Gates one day saw the boy glance at the Captain’s book shelf while dusting the Captain’s cabin, he asked:

”You know how to read, lad?”

”I do.”

”Your father taught you?”

”And my mother. They thought it necessary.”

”Well, that’s something. Not many are that lucky with their choice of parents.”

Billy forced himself so smile at the joke. T’was no meaning to think about what could’ve been. As the weeks past, he’d learn some of his crew mates stories and his was certainly not the worst. The loss was just more fresh, nothing else. Mr. Gates gave him a clap on the shoulder.

”You’re adjusting better than most would’ve, Billy Bones. Give it some time, lad. You’re among friends now. And if Singleton’s getting to much of an asshole, you come to me, understand?”

Billy nodded and Mr. Gates gave him a look of pride.

”We all like you, Billy, and the Captain’s very pleased with you.”

Billy gave him a skeptical look.

”Didn’t do anything for him.”

”Making oneself useful while still being in pain is a quality highly regarded on a ship like this. Sure, it’s never wrong having lettered men, but when it comes to our main task, we need men knowing how to handle rough situations. Getting me, lad?”

”Think so.”

”Good. Now, if you ask I’m sure the Captain will let you borrow from that shelf. Just don’t soil it with wine. He has more care for his books than his crew.”

Mr. Gates winked and left him to the dusting. Billy’s tasks had been of the easiest sort these first weeks and the Captain barely spoke with him. Knowing that the Captain, according to Mr. Gates, was very pleased with him, made a warm feeling spread through his healing body.

 

 **CHAPTER 8 (Present day, B21)**  
The crew remain in Tortuga for some days. They all needed the rest, not to mention giving the ship a proper cleanup and taking care of the wounded. The last battle didn’t leave them with any dead, but Silver’s stump needed som attention, as well as Nicholas’ scorched hands and about a dozen other minor injuries, who quickly could become more severe, if not taken care of properly.

Billy hadn’t been alone with the Captain since the night in his hammock and the man seemed to ignore his bosun. Maybe t’was for the best. After all, there were rumors ’bout the Captain. A skilled and feared captain he was, but he wasn’t exactly the warm type. At least not among his crew. Still, Billy found himself unable to make his usual visit to Patrick again. Not that he had to, but since that was his main arrend whenever they came to Tortuga and had a few days off on land – he used to visit him at least two times, sometimes even more – it looked suspicious.

Instead Billy foccused on the ship. Mending ropes, repairing some of the sails and tend to the wounded. This was the main reason the crew liked and resepcted the young bosun. No matter how much Flint had his attention, he never failed to see to his dutys, nor did he ever treat anyone badley or unfair. On the fourth day on land, Silver came by as Billy tried to fix one of his belts.

”Busy as usual these days, Billy?”

Silver smirked, looking far to pleased with himself. Billy didn’t answer. Silver had probably fucked half of Tortugas whores by now, drinking all of the crew under the table and won enough bets to make members of other crews both poor and pissed off, looking for that curlyhaired, smiling piece of shit to give him a proper beating.

”By the way, I have a message for you. Wanna hear?”

”Message? From whom?”

”I met a friend of yours and… well, how should I put it…”

”Spit it out already!”

”Well, if I were you, I wouldn’t go to far from the Walrus. A mad man is looking for you.”

”I know, I’m talking to him right now.”

Silvers smile got even wider.

”I admit I’m a bit crazy from time to time, but I’m not the one fucking the angriest and most expensive redhead in Tortuga, promising him to come back and instead stays on the Walrus sewing clothes, like some old lady. Your Patrick was furious.”

”Yeah, he’s not my fucking Patrick, just a whore who talkes too much.”

”He does a lot more than just talking, but you’ld know that even better than me, don’t you?”

Billy starred at Silver in utterly surprise and the curlyheaded man laughed.

”God, you should see your face now! I swear, sometimes you’re so thick headed one could mistake you for a proper englishman.”  
  
When Billy didn’t even smile, Silver shook his head and his voice lost the teasing tone.

”Seriously, Billy, it’s no secret, ya know. The only difference between us, is that I fancy the ladies as well. Yeah, and of course the fact that the redhead I fucked yesterday isn’t a stonecold bastard. Well, at least not if you pay him.”

Billy swallowed. Part of him wanted to punch that smug bastard right in his pretty face, another part just wanted to run away. Having all his longing noticed by Silver hurt. The quartermaster looked at him with something close to pity.

”Listen to me. Just… don’t let him ruin you, alright? It’s bad enough when he gets… you know?”

Billy sighed. If Silver knew this much, t’was no use trying to lie. Billy turned to the broken belt buckle, answering Silver as short as possible.

”I know. Now shut the fuck up about it.”

Silver, apparently satisfied with this, once again showed his tantalizing smile and dropped off.

 

 **CHAPTER 9 (Two years earlier, B19)**  
”Oh, for fucks sake, lad! Take that to the surgeon, will ya?”

It had been a good hunt. The vessel and it’s cargo was one of plenty and the short but bloody battle had given Billy that rush of excitement and pure energy a good fight always left him with. The two years he’d been with at the Walrus had slowly but steady peeled off any childlike layers remaining with him. Despite the fact that he didn’t work himself to the breaking point from dusk til dawn these days, he only seemed to get stronger. Hell, if Mr. Gates hadn’t pointed it out for him, he might as well not take notice of the blood sipping from his shoulder.

When the surgeon had been taken care of the wound, t’was a small one, Billy joined the other barely hurt or unscathed crew men, helping with their wounded brothers and organizing the goods. Later, when they’d taken course at Nassau and the smell of Randalls cooking spread through the ship, Billy took his usual resting spot on deck, with the no longer aching back against the mast. Relaxing in the sunset, a shadow showed up beside him.

”You fought well today.”

”T’was a good hunt.”

Billy had finally learned to answer the Captain without having to pause too long first. How ever, he didn’t seem to get rid of that dizzy twitch in his stomach, that always showed up whenever he was alone with the Captain.

”No regrets?”

”Sorry, Captain? What?”

”You’ve been with us some time now. One can hardly recognize you these days. There’s nothing bony with you anymore and you’ve proven to be a good sailsman as well as fearless in fights.”

Billy blushed. He knew most men among the crew were pleased with him, but he wasn’t accustomed to this kind of straight forward credit. Especially not from the Captain. He could feel the Captain’s scent, one with sweat, gun powder and a cleanliness not often being to find among his crew mates. He swallowed, feeling his mouth running dry.

”Ti’s a good feeling, Captain. Knowing I’m useful to ya.”

The blush grew as Billy realised he hadn’t said ”to the crew”. The Captain, how ever, didn’t seem to take notice. He touched Billy’s shoulder and left to take care of his dutys. Looking at the youngest crew man from the rudder, DeGroot had a displeased expression in his old, weather-beaten face. The blush disappeared from Billy’s cheeks and he forced away his thoughts from the Captain’s touch, scent and praising words. If he was to secure his place on the Walrus, he couldn’t rest on battles and cargos already won, nor taking the risk of loosing his grip of reality by allowing himself to dive into the emotions the Captain always seemed to leave him with.

 

 **CHAPTER 10 (Present day, B21)**  
It used to calm him down, at least for a week or two. He was no animal, despite what the so called civilized world said about men like him. Getting laid was no big deal and closing his eyes while getting a blow job or fucking Patrick, pretending the red headed whore was the Captain, had been good enough for two years now. Only it wasn’t enough. Not in the least. Releasing the stress after a rough time at sea was one thing, but Billy wanted more.

Not getting to touch the Captain was bad, being ignored by him was sheer pain. For days, Billy hoped the Captain would summon him or at least talk to him again, but he kept his distance. T’wasn’t the fact that Billy was a man, that he was certain of. The Captain hadn’t really broken any rules, touching him. One of many other benefits being a pirate, was the sexual freedom. Fuck who you want, whenever you want, as long as you don’t fuck up your duties. That was the main rule about sex, wheater you fucked a mate or a whore. But maybe the Captains touch wasn’t one of wanting. Maybe he was mistaken, tricked by his own desires?

The thoughts haunted Billy to no end, making him unusually distracted the following days. One time Mr. Gates muttered a low, irritated ”get your shit together, lad”, as Billy was about to loose grip of a rope while working with the sails, clearly distracted by the presence of the Captain. Ashamed of his clumsiness, he once again forced away his unwelcomed thoughts, attending to his dutys with his usual effectiveness.

Nothing of interrest happened during the following days. The weather was good enough, the hunting as usual and chasing down fat merchant men begging for their lives as soon as they saw the black, was no sport. They sat sails to Nassau and the Captain showed Billy no signs what so ever, about what had happen between them. A part of Billy was almost grateful they were going to Nassau instead of Tortuga. No Patrick there, as a matter of fact no male whores at all, at least not of his knowing. As usual, Billy was one of the first heading back to the Walrus after some bottles and, as usual, that stupid fuck Dooley felt the urge of talking a bit to loud about the ”fucking mystery”. Billy left before letting the urge to punch him in the face cause a scene.

I’m not going to hurt you or push you away. Those exact words, the Captain had whispered that night, kneeling beside his hammock. No one had ever said things like that to Billy. His heart pounded harder by the memory, while heading back to the Walrus. He wasn’t that drunk, but the mixed up emotions had a similar effect on his thoughts, making them all messy and erratic.  
  
As he went aboard, giving a swift greeting to the crew men who had their watch duty this night, his first thought was to crash in his hammock, just trying to sleep away his desires. Eager to find some rest he went too hasty down the ladder, finding himself loosing his foot and fall back on the hard floor.

”Fuck!”

He grimaced, trying not to give more voice to the pain. Being this fucking clumsy without even having a proper amount of liquor was a fucking disgrace for a bosun. His old wounds, healed for years now, sent a sharp reminding of the past as he tried to get on his feet. The whip, the hard floor, the sun… No soft hands, no kind words and no one to comfort him during the long days and nights of pain and loneliness.

”What the fuck are you doing, Billy?”

The Captain, clearly amused by the sight of his bosun unable to maintain balance, looked at him, smirking with a teasing glint in his green eyes. For some reason, it made Billy furious.

”The fuck does it look like, Captain? Just leave me the fuck alone! You’re good at that, aren't ya?”

You didn’t speak like this to the Captain. Not even Mr. Gates would dare to. Realizing what he’d done, Billy’s body froze, as if he was a seventeen year old, ill-treated kid in the Navy once more, just waiting to be torn to pieces for any mistake, intended or not.

”I meant what I said back in Tortuga.”

The Captain’s voice was soft. The amused tone was gone. Billy didn’t dare to look at him getting closer, fixating his eyes on his sore foot, praying in silence to a God he hadn’t talked to for years, not to ruin the one thing making him feel something far sweeter than the liquor, the bounties, the fellowship and the freedom at sea.

”What are you yearning for, Billy Bones?”

The pain in his chest was stronger than ever. T’was as if he couldn’t breathe anymore, as if he was drowning on shore, unable to give voice to another word or sound. The Captain’s voice was now only a whisper, coming closer as Billy felt warm air touching his ear, making the blood rush through his body.

”What are you yearning for, Billy Bones?”

”You know that already, Captain. Just stop it, already!”

”Stop what?”

”This! I can’t… Can’t stand not knowing!”  
  
”And what do you want to know, Billy Bones?”

”Please, don’t… You’re fucking hurting me, you evil bastard! Enjoying it, aren’t ya?”

”This is not me enjoying myself. This is.”

Billy sensed a subtle fragrance of soap and just like that, the Captain’s lips reached his mouth, pressing against his lips and making them divide with one single touch.

**Author's Note:**

> If you like my work and want to keep reading, please let me know. And a MAJOR THANKS to all wonderful stories about Billy and James I've read here. Can't get enough of them! And no, this is not the end of this piece :)


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